


Flicker

by aishahiwatari



Series: Trektober 2019 [13]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Camboy Jim, First Meetings, M/M, No Sex, Somehow, Sugar Daddy, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 18:10:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21020057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aishahiwatari/pseuds/aishahiwatari
Summary: There’s nobody who really understands what he wants, nobody who gets him except for one man. One man who’s paying Jim’s bills, who buys him clothes he thinks Jim will like, instead of what he wants to see him wear. Toys that will bring him pleasure, no matter whether he uses them in front of an audience or not. Who, Jim imagines sometimes, really likes him.That’s why Jim gets excited to see that horrible doctors’ scrawl on a piece of notepaper folded into the latest small package sent to his PO box.A sequel to Filament.(for day 13 of Trektober 2019, prompt: Daddy Themes)





	Flicker

Jim loves getting presents.

He gets a fair few, these days, from various admirers. They’re mostly cute outfits and insertable toys.

Some he uses more than others. Some are cheap and designed only to be used once, so he can ruin them on camera. Some, like the sets of silk panties, the more expensive lingerie, he keeps, in a trunk under his bed. He uses them for shows, sometimes, or just puts them on when he wants to feel pretty. Desirable.

The show doesn’t always do that for him, on its own. Maybe it should, having men hang on his every word, staring at him, wishing he belonged to them.

But anyone can watch. It’s the gifts that make him feel valued. The thought that somebody considers him and what he might want enough to go to the effort of choosing it, having it sent-

And yeah, okay, spending that money. He’s never really had people buy him gifts before, alright?

But there’s nobody who really understands what he wants, nobody who gets him except for one man. One man who’s paying Jim’s bills, who buys him clothes he thinks Jim will like, instead of what he wants to see him wear. Toys that will bring him pleasure, no matter whether he uses them in front of an audience or not. Who, Jim imagines sometimes, really likes him.

That’s why Jim gets excited to see that horrible doctors’ scrawl on a piece of notepaper folded into the latest small package sent to his PO box.

“Oh, daddy, you shouldn’t have,” he mutters to himself in a girlish undertone, much to the consternation of some old lady walking into the post office. He beams at her. Bones has sent him a present, and if the box is too small to be any of the usual gifts anyone sends a camboy, well, Jim’s not-

“Holy fucking shit,” he says, too loud because that is not a vibrator, or some cute panties, or even stupid organic Belgian chocolates he’d mentioned once and Bones had bought him on a whim because he’s too damn sweet for his own good.

No, two nights ago, Jim mentioned something else.

He had mentioned that his car was in the shop, and he was having to go a few days without it while he waited for parts.

And now, in a small box, in his hands, is a key fob with the Honda logo on it.

“Son of a bitch,” Jim mutters, as he lifts it out by the ring with one single finger, as though touching it any less makes it make more sense. “What an asshole,” he says, too, because this is too much, even for Bones, whose generosity knows no bounds, and Jim has to wonder what it all means. Whether it’s some sign of what Bones thinks he’s worth, or the beginning of demanding more than Jim is willing to give.

What can he possibly provide that would be worth this?

The note, which Jim unfolds with shaking hands, tells him it’s parked in a nearby street, that Bones hopes it helps, that if Jim has any trouble with the insurance or transferring the ownership, he can just let him know.

Like it’s a perfectly normal thing to do, to buy a car for someone when you don’t even know their last name. All the packages he’s ever received are just addressed to Jim, all his payments made directly to the cam site and proportioned out in tips, all their conversation sweet and deep and emotional, occasionally telling of their deepest secrets but never once infringing on his identity.

At least it doesn’t look brand new? The fob’s a little scuffed, so Jim doesn’t have to worry about that level of depreciation, about Bones never getting his money back. Because of course he has to take it back. This is fucking insane, and Jim can’t keep it. A few hundred dollars, spread out, in exchange for services, immediately provided, sure. But even a new-ish car for what, as far as Jim can tell, was a throwaway comment on his part, is just excessive.

“Oh, no,” Jim says, when he sees it, too, maybe not the only Honda on the street but the first one he comes to, a Civic Si in a gorgeous metallic red. He presses the button on the fob with conflicting desire and dread, because this is terrible but he’s always wanted to drive one of these.

“Fuck,” he says, because of course it chirps at him, flashes its lights. “You’re such a dick!”

He can’t keep it. He would never have asked for it. And he can fucking take care of himself. He doesn’t need some stupidly hot doctor paying for everything he could possibly want. It’s unrealistic and unsustainable and they’ve never even met! Who the fuck does that?

Jim’s exhausted after a week at the shop, working through his lunch breaks on his own damn car and then doing his late-night cam shows, but he’s wired, running on coffee and spite and now directionless frustration.

He can’t take this. He has to give it back.

It’s fourteen hours’ drive to Atlanta.

If Jim makes it in twelve, he’ll be able to catch Bones at the hospital before his shift finishes.

He spins the fob around his finger, and slides into the driver’s seat. That sounds like a challenge.

If Bones didn’t want him to drive fast, he would have bought him a Camry.

-

Leonard is the head of the emergency department in one of the busiest hospitals in the state of Georgia, so he’s used to hearing people shouting, demanding to see him.

He’s used to people generally subsiding a little when they actually see him, big enough and old enough to be beyond their attempts at intimidation.

He is decidedly not used to seeing a gorgeous young man he has never met, but definitely recognises, turn on him and demand an explanation for his behaviour.

Behind the reception desk, Janice is staring with wide eyes. Across the room, Chapel isn’t doing much better.

“How about we continue this conversation in my office?” Leonard suggests and Jim -handsome and compelling and furious- stalks after him, paces until Leonard shuts the door behind them and then raises his voice so anyone who cares can listen in anyway.

“What the fuck, Bones? You bought me a car? Are you fucking insane?”

Oh, that’s what this is about. It’s why Jim’s come all this way, why he looks like somebody Leonard would suggest admitting for observation if he thought that suggestion would be treated with anything but derision and- “Did you drive here?”

“Isn’t that why you bought it? So I could drive places? I can’t believe you did that. All I said was that my car was in the shop -which is fine by the way, because I work there- and you thought this-“ Jim brandishes the fob- “was a reasonable response? Doctors really do earn too much fucking money if you can go around buying cars for- fuck-“

All at once, Jim seems to lose all his gathered energy, looks on the verge of tears, sinks into the chair Leonard hurriedly pulls out for him and scrubs at his face with his hands.

Leonard feels terrible. Yes, Jim had mentioned that his car wasn’t starting, that he’d be fixing it himself instead of taking it to a mechanic, that he’s always having to buy new parts for it to keep it running. Jim clearly hadn’t expected anything by saying it, but that had been why Leonard had itched to help. That was all it was; the price tag hadn’t even really registered, once he’d done the necessary research to find out what was safe, reliable and a reasonable amount of fun.

He hadn’t meant to do this, to upset the sweet young man enough that he drove a whole say to chastise him for his thoughtlessness.

He’s imagined their first meeting countless times, but it’s never occurred to him that it could be like this.

“I’m sorry,” he says, even though he knows it’s nothing like enough, a she sinks into the seat opposite Jim’s, not quite close enough to touch. “I crossed a line.”

Jim’s eyes are beautiful, even bloodshot and resigned as they are. “It kind of gets less satisfying to be mad at you when you apologise right away.”

“Should I apologise for that, too?”

Jim ignores that weak attempt at humour, sighs instead. “What the fuck am I doing here? I’m being as ridiculous and impulsive as you. It’s a complete overreaction, I should have just told you tonight that I can’t accept it. You shouldn’t have to see me like this. Not exactly what you’re paying for, is it?”

That makes Leonard flinch back as violently as if he’d been burned. He feels like someone’s punched him hard in the chest. “That’s not what this- I care about you.”

“You don’t even know my name. I know yours. That’s how I got here. All I had to do was google you. Your picture’s on the hospital website.”

There’s so much Leonard doesn’t know about him, and he feels terrible for it. He’s never wanted to push, has always held back from asking, because he wanted -still wants- Jim to have his own privacy, his own life. But all he’s done is make Jim feel like Leonard wasn’t interested, that all he wanted was to buy his time and worse.

“I’ll take the car back,” he says, because there’s so much he needs to fix but he has to start with that, takes the key Jim drops into his outstretched hand. “Although-“

“Don’t you fucking dare-“

“How are you planning on getting home?” Leonard interrupts, is glad he does because Jim stares, for a moment, eyes wide, and then he drops his head into his hands and groans.

“God, I’m so fucking stupid.”

“You’re not, Jim.” Leonard wants so badly to reach for him, doesn’t quite dare. “This is my fault. I shouldn’t have assumed. Just- let me give you a ride somewhere. The airport, or-“ he takes a deep breath, because this sort of shit is what got him into trouble in the first place but he has so much to make up for and he’ll never forgive himself if he doesn’t ask. “I’m off tomorrow. I could give you a ride home. To say sorry. And we could talk. About- all the things I’ve been trying not to ask, because I didn’t know if you wanted me to really know you. If you want.”

“I want.” Although Jim says it with a pout, like he’s not happy to admit it. He looks exhausted, must be after driving all this way.

Leonard wants to gather him up and hold him close, is suddenly starkly aware that sitting opposite him is Jim, the subject of his fantasies and possessive gaze and sexually explicit suggestions for months now. And judging by the way he flushes a little and licks his lips, Jim’s having a similar revelation.

“I should go.”

He should. Leonard agrees. He holds out the key fob, even though Jim grimaces at it when he lets Leonard drop it into his outstretched hand.

“Just for tonight,” Leonard assures him, and fuck it, fuck everything. “Will you- get a motel for the night, or do you need somewhere to stay?”

There is something heart-stopping about Jim’s smile, although that seems to contradict the blood that rushes to Leonard’s groin when he sees it, thinking of the possibilities. And then Jim hands the key back, pressing it into Leonard’s hand with the first touch they’ve ever shared, just a simple brush of fingers that’s enough to send electricity sparking through him.

“I don’t need it. If I can get a ride with you, back to your place.”

“That’s- yes. Of course. Please.”

And for everything that Leonard has done wrong, or just the one thing he has completely fucked up, Jim’s eyes meet his and hold. “Gunna take care of me, daddy?”

**Author's Note:**

> At some point in this AU they will actually have sex, I swear.
> 
> I’m also on [Tumblr](https://aishahiwatari.tumblr.com/)


End file.
